


Needs Versus Wants

by goresque



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Other, Service Top, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goresque/pseuds/goresque
Summary: Megatron has been ignoring an uncomfortable amount of charge that has become medically necessary for him to clear. Lugnut is here to help.
Relationships: Lugnut/Megatron (Transformers)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I’ve been percolating on this one for a while. In my opinion there’s not enough of Megatron being worshipped by his most loyal lieutenant, so I made my own food.
> 
> This deals with the Decepticon cultural idea that using your valve equals submission. Because of this there’s no point where Megatron would feel comfortable saying “yes” even if he wanted to use his valve. Their consent gets better. I’ve chosen not to use warnings for this.

“I’m not a medic.” Scrapper held his scanner like a shield between himself and Megatron. He tilted it slightly as he read it. Megatron watched his faceplate contort into one of confusion and disdain- which really wasn’t a good sign. “I’m not sure what you want me to do with these results.”

“You know machinery,” Megatron rumbled, scowling where he sat on a pathetic rock in their terribly cramped cave-base. “You can tell me why my fuel efficiency has tanked. How hard is it to check an engine?”

“I  _ know _ structural integrity, I just happen to be machinery,” Scrapper grunted. The constructicon’s faceplate gave an odd jolt in expression as he scrolled through the scanner’s readings. 

“What?” Megatron demanded, his voice going raspy, “What is it?”

Scrapper rattled his engine, tossing the scanner over his shoulder. He folded in on himself, his frame coming down with tremors. Megatron came to the conclusion Scrapper was  _ laughing _ at him.

“Uh… ‘Kay, Sir, I don’t know how to ask you this but… how often do you self service?”

Megatron’s processor stalled. The question triggered impunity and disdain in him at the drop of a bolt. He bit out, “That’s none of your concern.”

“Right.” Scrapper rubbed the back of his neck cables, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Megatron could sympathize with that. “Gonna take that to mean not very often.”

Megatron sucked in his armor as he clenched his jaw. He rose to his pedes, towering over Scrapper. His spark writhed with his bruised ego. “Speak wisely, Scrapper.”

Scrapper did make an attempt not to look terrified; Megatron appreciated that from a new recruit.

“You work up a charge, right? When you’ve got a full tank and you’ve had a good fight?” Megatron realized he was being coaxed into answering. He grit his dentae and nodded. Scrapper went on, “Alright, sounds normal. What do you do to clear through that charge?”

“I rest my frame, as I need to. Otherwise I reduce my core temperature with a cold wash.” Megatron rolled back his pauldrons, clasping his servos behind his back to regain a semblance of control. Intimidation was easy to fall back on.

“If you’re making me play doctor, you’re gonna get a prescription.” Scrapper folded his arms across his chest. “Your tank is metabolizing more fuel to make up for the charge you’re holding. Probably the crude oil we drink here, too. A couple’a overloads a week oughtta fix you right up.”

Behind his mortification, Megatron swallowed his pride. In the absence of an actual medic, Scrapper’s advice was better than nothing. But just barely.

* * *

That evening, Megatron hadn’t planned on self servicing, but… Well, maybe Scrapper had a point. His frame was buzzing with energy, and his CPU actively denied him the choice to shut down and defrag. He’d taken a quiet opportunity to walk around outside the cave they called their base, the rushing of the nearby river soothing his restless mind. The river was louder than his thoughts; it was a welcome change. 

Not enough of a change, apparently. 

Megatron found a cozy corner that he could call private between several boulders and a looming tree. The act of opening his modesty panels was the hardest part, what with all the organic goo everywhere. Megatron shuddered thinking about it. His spike emerged from its housing still soft and unpressurized, and the small node just below the base of his shaft glowed a weak red. Megatron braced himself against a jutting rock with one servo as the other dipped below his waist. He bit back a needy moan as he grasped his limp spike, finding it harder to pressurize it than he preferred. 

His spike swelled in his servo with time and touch, a throb deep at the base of it. Megatron squeezed his cord, thumb pushing between the braided platelets of its underside to stimulate the receptors there. Megatron moaned again, embarrassed how quickly he was losing himself to the pleasure. It  _ had _ been a long time since his last overload- several millennia at least. He had steered himself away from temptations of his baser protoform for the past half an eon, finding solace in denying himself small pleasures. The control he derived from his stored charge was better than the release of an overload. 

But, whether he liked it or not, it was affecting him physically. Scrapper may be a fledgling, barely able to support his own experiences, but Megatron knew that this was more a matter of common sense. His frame demanded release, and so he had to supply it. Their bodies simply were not made to hold onto charge that long.

Sinking to his knees, Megatron balanced himself to make use of both his servos. He held the base of his spike with one servo as he pumped the length of it with the other, the heel of his palm grinding into his anterior node. It lit up his entire array, a slick rhythm of noise giving him away as pre-fluid trickled from his jack. Megatron knew he wouldn’t last long. If it wasn’t the fact it had been a while it would be how paranoid he was about being caught. 

Megatron tried to think of something attractive, something that would have his engine roaring. He tried to conjure up a form of his favorite holovid actors, though it had been many years since he’d had the opportunity to indulge in anything even resembling pornography. 

Overload sapped the pressure from his hydraulics and Megatron held himself up with both hands on the ground as he heaved. Sinking to his elbow components, Megatron realized there was still charge crawling through his struts. He found, with his helm looking between his legs, that a thick line of lubricant was oozing from his valve to the ground.

It had been longer than his last berth partner since he’d given his valve any attention. Without regard for whether it was a good idea or not, Megatron reached between thighs to slide his digits between the folds of his valve. Moaning low in his throat, Megatron found his valve warming with little touch necessary. The slick heat encouraged him to rub harder, pressing down on his anterior node with increasing desperation. His charge ramped again, finally allowed an outlet after being contained for so long. 

Copious fluids soaked the ground beneath Megatron. He tried to ignore the squelching of his own heavy petting, the tips of his claws barely pricking at the rim of his opening. He wasn’t sure if he was emotionally ready to penetrate himself, even if his calipers clenched at the thought. It wasn’t proper for him to take such interest in his valve- he had a reputation to uphold as a leader who never backed down. Baring ones’ valve was an act of submission; while there was nothing wrong with that, Megatron couldn’t afford anyone seeing him in a state of vulnerability. Decepticons sniffed out weakness and then destroyed it.

Megatron trembled under the work of his own servos, playing with the lips of his valve and his node in tandem. Electricity sparked around him, forcing him to pat out a small fire in the otherwise wet grass. 

That was when he heard something, too close for his comfort. Megatron went still and quiet, turning his helm over his shoulders to check he was still alone. Nothing. Perhaps it had just been his overactive imagination, but he’d sworn-

“Oh, glorious Lord Megatron!” 

Megatron’s hand snapped away from his valve in an instant. He rolled onto his back, mortification rising in his cheeks as he saw Lugnut lumbering towards him.

“Lugnut,” he hissed, voice hushed, “Be quiet, you oaf-“ 

Megatron was cut off once more by Lugnut clamping onto one of his pedes tight. A less than dignified yelp echoed around the little clearing, reminding Megatron he had gone and trapped himself against the outcropping of rocks. Like a fool. Now there was no telling what Lugnut would do- though Megatron was sure he at least wouldn’t kill him. 

“You should never be left wanting, my Lord and Master, allow me to satisfy you.” Lugnut’s voice was low and heavy, but he seemed to take Megatron’s orders to spark. He was quieter as he maneuvered Megatron onto his back with servos under his aft. Megatron was still horrifically aware that his valve was on display and leaking in front of his top lieutenant. The worst was yet to come as Lugnut leaned in and  _ licked _ him.

“What are you doing?” Megatron hissed, shoving his palm against Lugnut’s head to push him away. He groaned as the strong servos holding his aft tightened, causing the metal of his waist to creak. As a last ditch effort, Megatron planted a stabilizer against Lugnut’s chest and pushed.

It did… absolutely nothing. 

“Pleasuring you, my Lord! I am aware of your medical needs, oh, Glorious Megatron, and I am here to deliver.” Then Lugnut was leaning in again to bury his heated faceplate against Megatron’s valve. Lugnut’s glossa dragged through him, curling around his anterior node as Megatron used both hands to push at Lugnut’s massive helm. “Forgive me for my presumptuousness, my Lord, when I saw you give in to the desires of your valve I knew what I must do!”

“Lugnut— nng— you were watching me self service?” Megatron gasped out, Lugnut’s tongue making him shudder. His thighs clamped together around the titan’s helm despite his verbal rebuke. “Stop this at once!”

“My firmest apologies, Master, you are in need. Foremost you are significant to the Decepticon cause! You must be in peak condition to rid the universe of all Autobot scoundrels. I will take great pleasure in serving your needs, my Lord. This is necessary disobedience.” Despite the long winded, muffled reply Megatron wasn’t allowed a word in edgewise. Lugnut dove back between his thighs, slurping noisily against Megatron’s anterior node. It was different than touching it himself, different than anything he could have imagined. He hadn’t touched his valve in millenia, and now here he was being forced open on his most loyal soldier’s tongue. It was a bit much all at once.

Megatron overloaded with a crackle of energy zapping along his armor before it grounded into the earth below him. Besides feeling embarrassed at how quickly Lugnut drew an overload from him he was horrified that Lugnut  _ wasn’t stopping. _

“Lugnut,” Megatron groaned, legs too weak from his orgasm to push at the larger mech. Lugnut was still feasting on him like decadent fuel, though now the swiping of his glossa was irritating more than pleasurable, post-overload. As a last ditch effort, Megatron wailed, “Lugnut, please!”

Lugnut licked at his lips like a photovolt-cat might lick cream from its whiskers. Megatron went limp as he was allowed to rest from sensation, no longer kept ramrod straight by Lugnut’s incessant service. 

“My apologies, Lord Megatron, I’m certain you’re ready to move on now. Had I known you were so in need I would have acted sooner!” Lugnut’s iron grip loosened just enough to turn Megatron back over onto his knees, forcing him back up against the rock outcropping with his aft out. 

“Lugnut-“ Megatron was dazed by his overload still, slapping at Lugnut’s claws where they dug into his hips. Urgency didn’t strike him until he felt the tip of something blunt and thick against his slick hole. “Lugnut, wait—“

The head of Lugnut’s spike split him open with a slow and agonizing stretch. Megatron couldn’t help the moan that tore through him, his fans rushing to cool his molten frame. Instead of impaling him outright, Lugnut drew back, only to punch Megatron open once more, even deeper this time. Lugnut continued like that, screwing him open with shallow thrusts that became deeper with every pull out until Megatron was supple and pliant beneath him. 

Panting and fans spinning on their highest setting, Megatron tried not to feel betrayed by his own body. He was aching, his valve hot and clenching down on Lugnut’s unforgiving cord every time he pulled out. Shoulders shaking, he cried out as Lugnut buried himself to the hilt, leaving Megatron to shudder and convulse around him. 

“Please, my Lord,” Lugnut rumbled in his reverence. His servos stroked along Megatron’s trim waist, his one optic dim with arousal. “Enjoy yourself. It’s what you need, glorious leader.”

Megatron groaned, finding himself too occupied struggling to keep himself upright as Lugnut speared him with shattering force. Their hips came together sharp and noisy with every thrust, sparks flying between them. Every time Lugnut fucked his spike into Megatron he shoved him against the jutting rock, until his leader was nearly prone on the ground, barely able to hold himself up. In the back of his frazzled processing core he wondered if anyone could hear them.

“What I need-“ Megatron interrupted himself with a moan when Lugnut struck something deep inside him that made his insides twist. The pressure was almost painful. “What I need is for you to listen to me, you brute!”

“As I said, master,” Lugnut purred, his massive engines roaring as he hilted himself and ground deep against Megatron’s ceiling node. “This is necessary disobedience. Watching you struggle unduly with your spike was painful to watch, my Lord, but I dared not intrude until I was absolutely sure of my assessment.”

A lance of humiliation spread through Megatron’s spark. Being told his self service was painful to watch wasn’t exactly thrilling, but at the same time it lit a fire in his loins like nothing else. Megatron clenched his jaw as Lugnut’s cord gouged him open with heavy strokes and long, deep grinds. As he got a knee up under himself he managed to bite out, “And what– assessment is that?”

Megatron felt Lugnut shift in the subtlest of ways before his thrusts forward became more powerful. Megatron was close to having his face fucked against the rocks like a common harlot, his thighs shaking with every powerful jerk of massive hips behind him. He barely noticed when Lugnut reached around him, and then definitely noticed when he pinched his claws around Megatron’s pulsing anterior node.

Lugnut leaned over Megatron, his form heavy and suffocating as he covered his leader. It made Megatron’s head spin. Lugnut’s thrusts slowed to shallow grinding as he considered his answer. The jack in his cord teased Megatron’s internal port with a linkup, never fully connecting. It was enough to drive his charge higher without allowing for any relief.

“That, with all due respect, glorious leader, you are a desperate valve mech waiting for the right spike to ruin you.”

If Megatron had tried to convince himself Lugnut’s words didn’t make him overload he would have been a liar. His valve gushed as the ocean in his veins dashed him against the rocks of his arousal. The overload lingered in his aching cunt, strung along by Lugnut’s insistent grinding. As the last of his orgasm was eked from him, Megatron went limp on the ground, his frame utterly spent. 

Lugnut jerked his hips back, withdrawing in one smooth motion. His engines roared as his claws worked over his spike with efficient care and furious intent. Transfluid painted Megatron’s aft and back, copious amounts of viscid fluids dripping into his seams.

To his own quiet horror, Megatron realized the overload had left him feeling more sated than his spike overload had; by an embarrassing amount. Of all things he felt vulnerable and compliant, two very scary things to be as the mech he was. He couldn’t trust himself like this, laid open for someone who was supposed to be his most loyal soldier. 

A cold swipe along his backside urged Megatron to peak over his shoulder. Lugnut had taken a dirty chamois to wipe away most of the transfluid on his back, but leaving rest. Megatron’s cheeks burned. He knew he must look a mess back there with his hole wrecked and Lugnut’s nanites decorating his aft. 

“I will leave you if you wish it, Master,” Lugnut rumbled, quiet behind Megatron.

Megatron didn’t know how he felt about that. As he rolled into his side he waved Lugnut away with a plan to wash off the incriminating evidence in the river. All amounts of complicated feelings swarmed beneath his armor. 

“Never speak of this to anyone else,” Megatron snarled, already rolling to his shaky stabilizers. He grit his dentae as Lugnut only bowed and nodded.

“As you wish, glorious leader.”


	2. Chapter 2

Megatron had been willing to let the  _ incident _ fade into just a memory without consequence, if only to forget about it. Except as he tried his best to shove away the spark-shattering overload he’d experienced around Lugnut’s spike, the more it consumed him. He had shoved down every complex feeling since washing away the transfluid from his aft, hoping it would make him feel cleaner. It didn’t.

It wasn’t even because he was ashamed. Megatron knew Lugnut would obey his decree of silence without falter— Lugnut was too stupid to betray him. Lugnut was also a Decepticon born and raised, he knew the implications behind surrendering one’s valve, and he would keep Megatron’s secret.

Except Megatron hadn’t surrendered his valve, not really. Lugnut had even taken the foresight to know he wouldn’t ever  _ offer _ that to anyone and he’d made the choice  _ for _ Megatron. 

No, it hadn’t made him feel dirty (barring the organic mire), it made him  _ hungry. _

Megatron had tried to replicate the overload. On private flights out to uninhabited islands over several earth weeks he had abused his poor valve in every imaginable way. He’d even resorted to using unsavory organic objects for penetration. 

None of it came close to the pressure Lugnut had ignited in the top of his valve channel or the way the bottom of Lugnut’s spike housing had slapped against his anterior node with every forceful thrust. His own servos just weren’t enough. 

It was how Megatron ended up taking Lugnut on one of his “field trips.” Normally it was a phrase he reserved for long walks with Starscream where the seeker ended up dead. It was strange, with Lugnut towering above him in a way that was both menacing and tantalizing. He couldn’t back down now, not when he was so close to tasting absolution. Megatron could even blame this entire idea on Scrapper if he rationalized hard enough. 

Megatron had picked their destination long before he enacted his plan. A wide clearing where humans had left traces of their primitive fires and temporary lodgings. Plenty of space for vigorous activities.

“Lugnut,” Megatron broached as he turned to face Lugnut’s looming form. He could see the way his lieutenant wouldn’t quite meet his gaze, couldn’t help but notice how Lugnut’s knee joints rattled just loud enough to give away how fearful he was.  _ Good, _ Megatron thought to himself, uncharitably. Lugnut deserved to be afraid for his life considering how he had breached Megatron’s boundaries before.

“My Lord?” Lugnut fell to one knee without being asked, bowing himself low before his leader. It made Megatron feel powerful. A loyal brute who had showcased exactly how useful he could be, and here he offered himself up to Megatron like an Iaconian feast.

Shuttering his optics, Megatron let loose a long vent. He’d made up his mind. 

Megatron retracted his modesty panel, arousal rushing to the forefront of his processor. He couldn’t back out now. He didn’t  _ want _ to. The thirst for an overload like Lugnut had given him before surged to the top of his priority list. That was supposed to be the point of his “prescription,” wasn’t it? If he was going to require frequent overloads he wanted only the best. 

Megatron’s spike stayed politely in its sheath, only the head peering from its housing as Megatron used his claws to spread the lips of his valve. He massaged his anterior node between two knuckles with a hitch of his breath. 

“I want to use your spike.”

Lugnut’s engines revved. His attention was rapt on Megatron’s valve, shining with lubricant already, as he licked his lip components. He’d known of Lugnut’s sexual inclination towards him but he had never appreciated it like he did now. After what had happened between them, Lugnut could have vented on his valve and it would have been erotic. 

Which he was. Megatron shuddered as Lugnut vented through his oral intake, the hot air flattering his swelling valve lips. 

“Master…” Lugnut’s claws clenched at his sides in a poorly concealed effort at self control. He reached out with one claw, curling around Megatron’s waist as he waited for his leader to deny him at any point. When he was allowed to touch it was like a broken dam. Lugnut’s other claw came up between Megatron’s thighs, clawtip dipping his hole with shallow sensation. “It isn’t about wants, my Lord. It is about your  _ needs.” _

“And what do I need, Lugnut?”

Lugnut’s leer was downright lecherous as he screwed his claw deeper inside Megatron’s wet valve. He openly delighted in the way Megatron writhed on his servo. Dipping his helm again, Lugnut said, “It is my opinion, glorious master, that it is you who will be used tonight. I believe that you are desperate enough to bow to my spike now that you realize I can fulfill your needy valve. You  _ need _ to be subjugated.”

It really shouldn’t have turned his crankshaft as much as it did. Bad dirty talk had never turned Megatron on like this before. He felt a thrill in his spark in the wake of it. 

“You will not regret choosing me to service you, my Lord,” Lugnut vowed even as he plundered Megatron’s valve with careful claws. As Megatron went weak in the knees Lugnut tightened the grip on his waist. “I will treat this privilege as it should be treated. With my eternal gratitude and enthusiasm.”

Megatron supposed he would take pretty words over apologies, or worse: pity. 

“Then show me,” Megatron rumbled, circling his anterior node as he allowed himself to tilt his hips forward onto Lugnug’s claw. “Show me your service now that I am expecting it.”

Lugnut dipped his helm in reverence. To Megatron’s displeasure he removed his claw. “How would you like it, Master?”

Megatron pondered the question, wondering how far he could push Lugnut. Part of him had even thought about it before this meeting, prompting him to give his answer, “Frag me like you would Dead End shareware.”

Without wasting vents, the claw around Megatron’s waist tightened and before he could react he found himself prone in the dirt. Lugnut’s whole frame was on top of him then and Megatron had a moment of panic, wondering if Lugnut would stop if he asked.

Megatron wished he’d asked to see Lugnut’s spike before they did this. He could feel it against his thigh, rubbing insistently with its rigid promises of overload and sensation. 

The moment Lugnut pierced him Megatron’s valve rim clutched tight. Lugnut hilted himself, hips clanging hard against his lord’s aft with vicious force. Megatron found his helm being gripped and pulled back, until Lugnut was forcefully arching his back strut. The thick spike stretched Megatron open in a show of raw exuberance, leaving him burning and scrabbling against the filthy ground. 

“You are going to regret asking to be treated like spare parts,” Lugnut growled, sonorous and deep in Megatron’s audial. His entire perspective narrowed down to the sawing pleasure that ripped through his valve with every thrust into him, against him. “You are already breaking down like a needy whore-bot. You’re wetter than a Tetrahexian gutter-skiv.”

Furious indignity burned in Megatron’s tanks. Even if he wanted to rebuke Lugnut’s nasty accusations he couldn’t deny the fire they lit in his array. Instead of fighting back, Megatron circled his anterior node with frantic need as Lugnut filled his channel with his vigorous cord. 

“Your cunt is gushing.” Lugnut moved one of his claws to grip Megatron’s arm and yanked it up and away from his pulsing, needy node. “You’ll overload on my spike or not at all! You wanted to act the whore, and whores don’t have the luxury of distracting themselves.”

Megatron howled, animalistic and desperate, as he bucked back on Lugnut’s spike. Every thrust tightened the building springload in his valve until he could hold it back no longer, and overloaded with a broken cry. Lugnut gave him no reprieve, cord punching into his hole with punishing power. Megatron’s orgasm stretched, his valve convulsing with the heavy, slow crashing waves of ecstasy. Every thrust renewed his overload, leaving his optics to burn out and his vocalizer to short. 

“Did you think that would be the end?” Lugnut revved his engine as he shifted his hips and switched from pulling Megatron’s helm back to shoving it  _ down. _ His claw found Megatron’s intake, hooking his cheek and distorting Megatron’s faceplate into one of debauched, half-aware whoredom. “Where is your stamina, my Lord?”

Megatron couldn’t reply even if he wanted to. He was content to lose himself in the hypersensitive charge that wracked his circuitry, completely undone around Lugnut’s cock. Every thrust sent jolts of electricity ricocheting through his sensornet. Megatron was certain he was going to overload again when his climbing charge was rudely redirected when Lugnut pulled out.

Megatron wailed at the loss. He was manhandled onto his back, Lugnut’s claw holding him firm around his waist, and given no chance to recover before he was penetrated again. Lugnut pressed down, covering Megatron with the whole bulk of his powerful frame, and pushed his lord’s legs down doubled over. The angle allowed him to fuck Megatron deeper, until he was grinding against his ceiling node with every bruising thrust. 

“You should see your face,” Lugnut sneered, one of his claws clamping tight around Megatron’s jaw. He forced Megatron’s gaze down, practically twisted in half, until he was staring at Lugnut’s spike forcing the rim of his valve taut over and over again. Megatron watched with glazed, unfocused optics as Lugnut’s spike slipped out of him. His valve fluttered on nothing, hungry and leaking fluids. “Without my spike you’re just a desperate slut. Say it.”

Megatron didn’t process what Lugnut said at first. His lieutenant struck him across the face for his lethargy, making him gasp and squeal when Lugnut slapped his spike against Megatron’s anterior node. “What?”

“You’re a desperate slut for my spike,” Lugnut growled, his engine revving with promise. His shaft rubbed between the folds of Megatron’s cunt, evading all of his attempts to be penetrated. “Say it.”

“I’m– I’m–” Megatron’s entire frame shuddered as Lugnut’s spike teased the entrance of his valve. His dignity clung to him with fierce rebellion. If he admitted to what Lugnut demanded of him, he was condemned. If he didn’t, that blue-screen inducing overload laid just out of reach. 

“I’ll give you what you need,” Lugnut purred, his optic curving into a leer. The head of his spike breached Megatron’s sopping hole, only to pull back out. Megatron held back a pathetic cry. “All you need to do is admit it, fragtoy.”

Megatron broke. He came apart like a well choreographed demolition, legs kicking out in restless helplessness. “I’m a desperate for your spike, please, for the love of Cybertron, frag me!”

“You’re a spike-slut.” Lugnut’s claw clamped around Megatron’s throat, the tip of his spike grinding into the Decepticon leader’s anterior node. “Say it. Or I won’t fuck your needy valve.”

“I’m a spike-slut!” Megatron crowed, desperate for the deeper sensation of penetration. His valve expulsed a new torrent of fluids around Lugnut’s cord to allow it to slide between his well-lubricated valve pleats. “Please, Lugnut,  _ frag me!” _

“As you wish, glorious leader.” Megatroun found his intake full of Lugnut’s claw once more, pressing down on his glossa until he choked. His valve was filled shortly thereafter.

Lugnut didn’t hold back once he got into position. His hips worked like well oiled pistons, his spike gliding in and out of Megatron with vicious force. Lugnut filled him completely, knocking his ceiling node every time he bottomed out and their hips clanged together. Megatron’s aft was certainly dented, he realized in a daze. He also realized he didn’t care.

Megatron screamed around Lugnut’s claw as he overloaded. His entire frame spasmed with the force of the electrical charge grounding out through him, leaving him steaming from his seams as his HUD initiated emergency reboot.

When Megatron came to, it was to Lugnut’s spike rubbing against his cheek. A soft moan left him, his derma parting just enough for Lugnut to assume he was offering. Megatron gagged before Lugnut even breached his throat tubing, causing him to writhe and twist from the blockage to his processor. Lugnut pulled out, allowing him to gasp, but before he could curse at his lieutenant his throat was filled again by Lugnut’s massive spike.

Megatron tasted himself whenever Lugnut pulled out to let him heave in a breath. His engine whined as Lugnut seated himself so deep Megatron’s nasal ridge pressed against the base of his spike housing. Just when he thought he was going to go into reboot again, Lugnut pulled out and began working his claw over his spike with quick, practiced movements. 

Lugnut overloaded with a roar. Transfluids painted Megatron’s face in a grand arc, leaving him stunned and wide-opticked as Lugnut pulled away.

“Master?”

Megatron was slow to turn his helm, barely aware of himself. All he could focus on was the tingle in his struts and the vacant feeling in his spark. Megatron wasn’t even certain he even had a frame at this point, with how little he felt of it. The way Lugnut picked him up and cradled him was secondary to the lovely calm that stowed away in his processor.

* * *

Megatron awoke in his makeshift berth, tucked away under a heavy duty tarp that had to have been stolen from a nearby human settlement. His frame was aching all over, his hips and aft the worst. When he checked his frame it was suspiciously absent of any signs of interface.

Megatron decided that his mysterious cleanup, as well as the looming shadow of Lugnut keeping watch around the corner, was best left for the morning.


End file.
